Trauma
by TrileBeemer
Summary: The main character gets out of an abusive relationship. She runs into Sam Winchester who helps her get herself together. The brothers help her out. AU Where the Winchesters are not hunters.
1. Chapter 1

"Get the hell out of my way!" With a leather boot, the front door was kicked open abruptly.

"Babe, come back inside. We can work this out! I'll forgive you if you just come back in."

"Forgive ME?! Fuck off. I don't need your self projection." Boots stomped aggressively on the porch and halfway down the wooden stairs before a pause. "You're pathetic. Don't you dare bother to contact me. I'm done with your slander, accusations, and manipulation. I'm done making excuses for you. Fend for yourself, mother fucker." The stairs creaked as the steps started up again.

"Look at you running away again! What you're best at!" Shouts continued from the doorway.

A scoff came from her as she flung open the passenger side door. A large box of various belongings were dropped in the front seat. Walking around to the other side, she opened up the driver side door and hopped in. Turning the key over, the boat of a car roared to life. She wasted no time in stepping on the gas peddle and zooming away. Looking into the rear view mirror, she saw her now ex still standing in the doorway, staring her down.

For awhile she drove aimlessly. Going home probably wasn't the best idea at the moment, her ex could stop by. Didn't exactly want to deal with anymore of that right now. She had been dealing with his shit for almost a year now. Somehow how he had managed to isolate her and get in her head at the time. Making her feel like she was useless without him. Throwing items and yelling was a constant in their relationship. The occasional bruise or cut marked her body. Something snapped in her head though. She was drained, sick of feeling like she was garbage. Tired of being told how she was feeling. Ready to try and take steps as her own person again. However, she wasn't quite sure how to do that at the moment, but she was sure as hell going to try.

Looking up, she saw a bar to her right. "Fuck it." She thought as she pulled into the parking lot. "I could use a drink for what I've been through. Relaxing and clearing my head could do me some good."

Five glasses of whisky in, she was nursing a sixth. Humming to the music in the bar she chatted with the bartender.

"You know how fucks up this all is? It's really fucked…" The words began to slur a bit. She had been telling the keep about her situation, who in return was being gracious with the serving sizes. "Have you ever let a man screw you over like that?" She sipped at her drink.

"I think we all have, babe. Just the extent of it is different for each one. Look at it this way though, you managed to get out. That's the best thing you could have done." The bartender continued to make drinks for other customers.

"Yeah….yeah...I got out." Grabbing her drink she made her way towards the bathroom, trying not to trip over her own feet or any of the other patrons. After taking a piss she checked herself in the mirror. A flushed face looked back at her. She tugged on the hem of her skirt and adjusted her tank top. She was clad in all black, including the ripped up stockings that clung to her legs. After making sure she didn't look like the drunken wreck she felt she was, she exited the bathroom. A man standing at a table she was about to pass whistled out to her.

"Hey, baby."

She raised a hand at him. "Not interested." She said blatantly and walked on.

Apparently males don't take kindly to being blown off. As she walked by the guy grabbed her by the arm. Her head whipped around and she looked at him wide eyed and in shock. A glimpse of the past year shot through her head.

"Let. Go. Of my arm." She demanded in a stern voice.

"Come on, sweetie. I just want to get to know ya." He winked and tried to flash what was supposedly a heart melting smile.

"Who the hell do you think you are, you sleeze bag?!" She ripped her arm away from his grasp. "Get your crusty cum covered hands off of me and mind your dick, asshole!" The booze was definitely cutting out the buffer between her sense of caution and mouth.

Males also don't like being questioned aggressively, either. His seat flew back as he stood up. "The hell did you say to me?" He was fuming, trying to puff up his chest at her and be intimidating. "Aren't you a snarky bitch?"

The commotion had caused a few people to look their way. There's was a particular man that had a stern face of concern. Her eyes rolled and she started to walk away again. Next thing she knew, the guy who had been looking on at them intently was standing next to her. The aggressor's arm in his hand.

"I think that's enough." He loomed over the guy.

"Fine." He ripped his arm away and scurried back over to his corner of the bar.

Looking up at the guy, he seemed like a towering sky scraper at this angle. "I was taking care of that." She stated. Moving back a bit to get a better look at him, she tripped over a bar stool and landed firmly on her ass. She grimaced, but smiled when she managed not to spill her drink.

"Yeah, I can see that." He tried to suppress a laugh and held out a hand to help the drunken girl up. "I'm Sam Winchester." He tugged her up.

"Trile. Trile Beemer." She stated matter of factly. Standing on her feet like a newborn deer.

"Woah there." He steadied her, getting her to sit down in one of the seats. She took another swig of her drink once she got settled. "Maybe, uh, you should slow down on those." Attempting to take the drink from her hand, Trile reared back.

"No no. You do not take a girl's drink away from her. Especially with the day or year, whichever you prefer, that I've had." She took another long drink from her glass.

"Alright then." Shrugging, he let her continue to nurse her drink.

The two sat and chatted for awhile, she unloaded her disdain for her ex on him. He listened on in concern, trying to console her a couple time. She just blew it off, saying that it really wasn't that bad. The topic changed a few times, she found out Sam was going to school for law, while she told him she was one of those starving artist types just trying to make ends meet.

A pack of cigarettes got pulled out of her tank top, along with a lighter. She struggled to get the end lit, but managed. The nicotine hit her head and the room started to spin. "Oh fuck…" She put her hand on her forehead. "Not good."

"Told you, should slow down on the drinks."

"I think I'm going to be sick." She wobbled towards the entrance door of the bar and snuck around the corner. Emptying her stomach in the nearest bush. Sam had followed her out and was standing behind her. After a few heaves she flopped over on her back in the grass. "I'm pretty sure I'm dying."

"Let's get you home. Do you want me to drive you? Save some money on a cab?" He kneeled next to her. The man still seemed like a giant, even though he was closer to the ground now.

"That'd be….nice." She huffed and rolled over and got on her knees. Sam helped her to her feet once again, and walked her to his car.


	2. Chapter 2

Once they turned on her street Trile started cussing and freaking out. She recognized the rusty blue wagon out in front of her place. "Fuuuuuck. You have to turn around, quick!"

An eyebrow was raised at her. "Why? What's going on?"

"Ugh, crazy ex. In front of my house. Fucking dammit." Her head was still spinning and the driving wasn't helping.

Sam pulled a U-turn in the middle of the road and headed back "Well, where should I take you then?"

"I honestly I hadn't thought this far ahead if this happened. I really don't have anywhere else. My friends are out of town right now." She sighed, her anxiety raising. She couldn't possibly deal with her ex right now, she was way too inebriated.

"It's okay. Just stay the night at the motel I'm at. I won't try anything, but you've had quite the night and could use some rest." He made another turn.

Trile nodded her head. "Thank you...for helping me out so much."

They parked in front of a motel. Sam got out and opened her door side, helping her out of the car and walking her to his room. He unlocked the door. "You can sleep in the bed. I'll just crash on the floor."

Trile didn't argue with it. She stumbled her way to the bed and crawled under the covers. No thought besides the fact that the motel sheets were starchy passed through her head before she fell asleep.

A chair skidded across the wooden floor. The morning peaked through the dusty motel curtains and beat in on her face. She tossed to the other side of the bed and groaned.

"Good morning there, sunshine!" A gruff, but excited voice chimed through the room.

Her eyes flew open and she shot up in the bed. "Who the hell are you?!" She looked around the room frantically. "Where the hell am I?!" The questions flew out of her mouth, then her head began to pound. "Oh fuck…" She bent over in half and held her head in her hands.

"Woah there killer." The man stood up and held his hands up defensively. "My brother brought you home last night. Which is pretty rare for him." He looked the disgruntled girl up and down. "And damn did he do a good job."

"Really?" Her eyes rolled as she rubbed her past night rushed to her head and she sighed heavily. " I don't need another pretentious dick hitting on me right now. Nothing happened between me and Sam, he just saved my ass."

The guy stared at her wide eyed. "My bad then." He turned around and rifled through a bag, tossing a bottle of pills, along with a water bottle, on the bed. "Here take that. It'll help with the hangover.'

As she unscrewed the bottle and popped a pill in her mouth the shower in the next room winded to a stop. After a few minutes Sam stepped out, his shaggy brown hair in wet tendrils. He wore a fresh red plaid long sleeved shirt and ratted jeans.

"Ah, you're up. I see you met my brother, Dean."

"Yeah, real freaking pleasure." She scoffed. Dean looked at her wide eyed and then at Sam, who shrugged at him in confusion.

"Do you want to take a shower? Maybe it'll help you perk up." Sam offered.

The stench of booze and cigarettes stained her hair and skin. Stale whisky tainted her mouth. "That's probably a good idea. Thanks." She scooted out from underneath the blankets and shuffled off to the bathroom, leaving the two brothers behind. Locking the door behind her she stripped down, wiggling out of her stockings and panties. She looked in the mirror to see her naked figure. Bruises marked along her hip from where he grabbed her. A few cuts from when she was pushed and fell into a glass table. She sighed and then turned the hot water on in the shower, stepping in slower, letting the water rinse away the nights grime.

"What the hell did you say to her, Dean?" Sam questioned.

"Nothing! I was just saying how attractive she was." He retorted.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure that came out like a compliment coming from you. Anyways, she had a hard night. Just go easy on her."

"Fine, Sammy." He huffed and crossed his arms.

After a bit the water shut off, there was a knock on the bathroom door. "Hey, here's a clean shirt. Get out of the smelly beer one you have on, then we'll grab some grub." Dean shouted through the door, making a lame attempt at a peace offering. Trile cracked open the door, wrapped in a white towel, and snatched the shirt out of his hand, shutting the door again. After slipping her clothes back on, she stepped out. The combination of the short skirt, his black plaid flannel, and the contrast of her wet orange hair made Dean's jaw drop for a moment, before he picked it up again. He refrained from saying anything else after already pissing her off once.

"So about that food?" She asked, stomach gurgling.

Trile sat next to Sam in the booth, Dean on the other side. The aroma of burnt coffee, grease, and syrup filled the air. The warm, bitter liquid passed her lips as she sipped on her coffee. Their plates of breakfast foods were already lightly picked through.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier." She muttered past her mug. The food soothed her stomach and attitude. She peered up at Dean, who had a mouth full of meat. Until now she didn't realize how attractive the older brother was. His short hair manicured, green eyes beaming. She looked back into her cup of coffee before he could notice her studying him.

Dean looked up at her and shrugged. He paused to swallow his food. "It happens. I get in moods too. Sammy mentioned you had some issues last night. So I forgive ya." He took another bite and smiled at her with an arched eyebrow.

"So I take it you guys aren't from around here? Staying in a motel and all?"

"Nah, we're just here taking care of some business." Dean left the question not fully answered and Trile didn't dig any deeper.

Sam's phone chirped, alerting him that he had a phone call. He checked the screen and held up a finger to excuse himself, walking away from the table. The two sat at the table in an awkward silence, finishing up their meals. Sam returned, stress apparent on his face.

"Dean, there's been a break in at the motel."

"Motherfucker…" His eyes quickly turned serious and his brow furrowed. Shaking his head. "Well, let's go and see what the damage is." They paid the bill and headed out, dropping Trile off at the bar where her car still sat.

"Sorry to have to leave so abruptly. Hope your hangover is a bit better." Sam placed a large hand on her shoulder and smiled down at her.

"Yeah, I'm feeling a lot better. I'm going to spend the rest of the day sleeping though."

"Here, let's exchange numbers. In case you need anything else. Get in touch, okay?"

"Thank you for everything again. Hope things aren't too serious at the motel. Bye!" Sam gave her a large bear hug. Trile bent over to wave goodbye at Dean, who in return raised two fingers to his forehead and saluted her.

The black Impala purred off into the distance and Trile got into her car. Turning the key and bringing it to life, driving off in the other direction to her home.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been about a week since Trile left the brothers, since she was so shit faced and freaking out about her ended relationship. The week had been pretty uneventful, she had time to mellow out and think about it all. Sam had texted her a few times, checking up on her. Besides that there wasn't much communication with anyone else, besides the occasional call to her best friend who was currently out of state with her boyfriend. Of course her black poof of a cat, Quasar kept her company.

Canvases were lined up around her apartment, pallets of paint sitting on the floor with murky cups of water and paint brushes sitting in them. Broken bits of pastels piled up. Various pages of sketches strewn everywhere. Since she had the space and time she delved back into her art, hoping that she could use all this extra emotion to make something worth selling. She sat in the middle of her floor, sipping on a cup of coffee and looked around at all the incomplete projects. Rain beat down on the window sill she had left open, the smell of the cool night blew in ruffling her curtains. An abrupt pounding on the door scared her. She definitely wasn't expecting visitors, especially in this weather. Walking softly to the door she waited to see if there would be another knock. Quasar weaved his way through her legs, mewing up at her. She shushed him. Sure enough a fist came down on the door again. There was no peephole to see who was assaulting her door. "Damn it, I really need to get that installed." She thought to herself. She unlocked the door, but left the chain hitched and opened up the door slowly. It was the asshole standing on the other side. She almost had the nerve to slam the door in his face.

"What do you want?" She stared blankly at him.

"C'mon.. Let me in, I'm soaked." He whined.

"Not my fault you're a dumb ass. What are you doing here?"

"I just want to say I'm sorry. I realized what I lost when you drove off. I need you back." The scent of booze wafted out of his mouth as he crept closer to the door opening.

"You've been drinking. Get the hell off of my porch." She went to shut the door, but his hand thudded against the wood stopping the door from closing.

"Don't fucking ignore me."

Her heart raced, she knew he could be aggressive when he was sober, but he rarely had ever drank around her. She wasn't sure how large his temper would boil with liquor inducing it. She attempted to use her body to slam the door shut. This just pissed him off more. Next thing she knew she was flung to the floor. The chain lock was apparently weak enough to be ripped off the wood door frame. Looking up she saw him standing over her, sopping wet and fuming. A heavy foot kicked into her side and she yelped out. He was bent over her, trying to grab at her wrists. She had time enough to grab the mug that fumbled and cracked him over the head with hit. The combination of force and booze dazed him. Trile scurried to her feet and ran to her art room. Locking the door behind her, she propped a chair under the door handle. Quickly a pounding came down on the door again. Looking around she saw her phone sitting on the floor, barely thinking she dialed Sam's number.

After a couple of rings the phone clicked and someone answered. "Heeey there, been awhile. What-" Dean had answered and Trile cut him off.

"I need you. Now." Her voice was breaking as she begged for help.

Quickly his voice turned serious and concerned. "What's wrong?" In the background she could already hear him grabbing his keys and walking out the door.

"It's my ex, he's in my house. I...I locked myself in my room. I don't know what to do."

"Just hold on, I'll be there soon. Text me your address. Hold tight." The phone clicked off. She quickly sent him her address. The pounds still rapidly hitting the door.

"Who are you talking to, bitch?!" He screamed through the door.

After a few minutes he gave up and she could hear him slide down to sit on the floor. He started to beg her, get in her head. She refrained from responding. Tears were running down her cheeks. It felt like an eternity that she sat in that room. Another set of footsteps walked into the house.

"Who the hell are you?" There was a distinctive sound of someone getting punched and a thud as they hit the ground.

"I advise you get the hell out of here and not come back or next time you'll find yourself with a god damn knife tearing into your throat." Dean's gruff voice threatened. All she could hear was a scrambling to stand up and running out of her place. "Trile...Trile. It's me, Dean. You can open up."

Shuffling the chair away from the door, the lock clicked open. She peaked out the door and saw Dean, his face dripping with concern. The door shot open and her face was buried in his chest before she could even think about it. "Thank you...thank you." She kept repeating muffled as she hid, tears staining his shirt.

He gently placed a hand on her head and stroked her hair. "It'll be okay. He's gone. It's alright."

They sat on the couch. Trile wrapped up in a blanket, Dean had replenished her coffee and grabbed himself a mug. Her hands were shaking as she tried to bring the ceramic to her lips. He placed a hand on her leg, a subtle signal that he was there for her.

"Damn, this is so fucked up. I didn't imagine he would break in. I figured he would stalk me, but to be drunk and do that...He had never been that bad." She stared off into her cup, shocked by everything that had happened.

"I didn't realize you had an asshole of an ex. Or that you were in a situation like this."

"Yeah, Sam had to hear all about it when I met him at the bar that one night. Broke up with the jerk just hours before."

"That would explain why you having such a rough night." Dean looked down and shook his head in disbelief. "He was always this aggressive?"

"I mean, he was mostly verbal, but getting pushed, grabbed, and slapped weren't uncommon." Her voice was shakey.

"You seem like such a strong person, how the hell do you get yourself strung up with such a douche?"

She laughed nervously at the question. "I guess half of it is just a show, and well, you wouldn't believe how easy it is for someone you care about to rip you down into a pile of nothing." She sipped her coffee and glanced over to him. His lips were pursed in thought. Tilting his head he looked at her, locking their eyes.

"You're not nothing. You're much more than you give yourself credit for. You came out on the other side fighting. That is sure as hell something." He didn't break eye contact. His gleaming greens seemed more intense than before. They were saturated in emotion and worry.

Trile's heart thudded in her chest. "Th..thanks." She broke the visual bond. "Where's Sam? I was surprised to hear you on the other end."

"He stepped out to grab us some burgers. I should probably text him and let him know where I went." He fished in his pocket for his cellphone, already there was a message from Sam asking where he had ran off to.

"If you want to head back, that's okay. I'll be alright." There was obvious worry in her voice.

"You're a damn bad liar, Trile. No, I'll stay here until I know you're better."

A slight smile rose on her lips. "Thank you again."

His phone chirped. "Sammy says he hopes you're doing okay. He worries about you."

"Sam is pretty great. Hey, you said he was getting you food. I don't have much besides noodles and a little bit of pie."

Dean's head perked up and a smile beamed from him. "Pie?" Trile directed him where everything was and he came back with two heaping servings of apple pie.

They chatted while they polished off what was left of the sweet dessert. Satisfied Dean let out a sigh and slumped on the couch. Trile lit up a cigarette and exhaled the minty smoke.

"That'll kill ya." He noted on her smoking.

"So will all the pie I bet you can put down."

"Touche." He chuckled.

Trile moved to flick on her tv. "Have you ever seen the Breakfast Club?"

"No, I haven't."

"What?! It's only about the best movie ever! It's a freaking classic. You've been missing out. John Hughes is a genius." She scurried off the couch and set the dvd in the player. Pressing play she resumed her place on the couch in the blankets. She ashed her cigarette and took another puff.

Throughout the movie Trile kept dozing off, sliding farther down the couch. Eventually her head was in Dean's lap. He didn't make a comment but lightly laughed to himself. The end credits eventually ran down the screen.

"I like that Bender guy." He nodded his head in approval. Looking down he realized Trile was completely passed out. Smiling, he ran a finger lightly over her cheek, taking in the sight of the sleeping girl. "Damn….you're beautiful." He ran his fingers through her hair gingerly. He nodded his head back and looked up at the ceiling. "I'll just let her sleep for a little while longer, then I'll head out." He closed his eyes and fell asleep himself.


	4. Chapter 4

The intro music for the Breakfast Club was playing on repeat at the main menu. The repetitive tune stirred Trile awake. She peaked her eye open to see the main cast of the movie on the screen. There was the weight of her black hole cat laying on her legs. Tiny, sleepy grunts came from him. There was a distinct smell of leather and musk that filled her nostrils. "The hell is that?" She thought to herself. Rolling over she was shocked to see a sleeping Dean, and then she realized she was laying in his lap. His arm laying over her shoulder. She couldn't help but to stare at his strong jawline, chest heaving slowly up and down with steady breathes. The heat from his body and arm warming her. He mumbled a bit in his sleep and let out a groan. His eyes parted slightly and he stretched out his arms, letting out a yawn. His arms lowered, the one returning to the spot on Trile. Dean furrowed his eyebrows in confusion for a moment and then looked down to see her looking sleepily up at him.

"Oh, hey. I must have fallen asleep. I didn't want to wake you up." His voice was surprisingly deep right after waking up.

Trile shifted up so that she was now sitting next to him. Quasar slid off of her and let out an irritated huff. "It's alright. It probably helped me fall asleep with someone here. Sorry for crashing on your lap though. Kind of awkward." She let out a nervous laugh.

"I can't say it bothered me." He flashed a smug smile. "You're kinda cute when you sleep."

She pushed at his arm. "Shut up…" She looked to the side to hide the blush creeping on her face. "I'm going to take a shower and change." She unraveled herself from the blankets. "Feel free to make some coffee or whatever I have." Getting up she walked into the bathroom. Quasar chased after her nearly tripping her. "Fucker! I'm going to squish your head one of these days!" Dean laughed from the living room. As always the cat joined Trile in the bathroom. First she turned on the shower to warm up the cool water. Then she stripped down to her panties slowly, realizing that she was actually a bit sore from the tumble. Looking in the mirror she saw the residual marks from the past, along with a nasty bruise from the night before. Her eyes moved up to look at her face, tears she was unaware of were rolling down her face.

"Trile, I can't seemed to find your coff-" Dean's voice cut off. She looked over to see him in the doorway. Quasar must have wiggled the door open. Her arms moved up to cover her breasts.

The look on Dean's face was shocked and worried, he saw the tears welling up in her eyes. He took a couple steps into the small room. "Oh Trile…" His eyes making contact with the markings. Raising his arm up he made contact with her skin, fingers grazing scratch marks and bruising.

Trying not to flinch away from his touch her tears came out harder. Using one of her arms she wiped away the salty tears. " ."

"Don't you dare be sorry." His hand moved to her chin, pulling her head up to look at him. Their eyes connected and her tears slowed down. There was something about how he held his emotion in his eyes that relaxed her, showed her that someone truly cared. "Are you okay?" He asked gruffly, his voice dripping with concern.

"Y..yeah." She gulped out. "Just still emotional I guess." She tried to chuckle it out, but it came out forced.

His thumb rubbed softly at her chin. "It's okay. A lot has been going on with you. No one expects you to keep your shit all together."

"Why are you being so damn nice to me?" Her hand moved to hold his wrist. "You really don't have to be…I don't want to be a damn pity case." She quickly became defensive.

He took a step closer, shrinking the distance between their bodies. "Oh, I'm not taking pity on you. That's not really in my character."

Closing the gap between them, she dropped her arm, arched her feet and brushed her lips against his. Replanting her feet on the ground she looked up at him and smiled. He gave a little side smirk and let out an airy laugh before bringing an arm around her waist gently, pulling her into him. Leaning down he connected their lips again. A pleased moan escaped her.

He retracted his lips enough that they were barely touching "Oh really?" He teased.

"Oh, shut up." She kissed him again and pulled away from him completely. Standing naked besides her black panties, which she pulled down gracefully. She turned to the shower and stepped in. After a minute she asked, "Are you coming in?"

There was a rustling as he removed his clothing and stepped in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. The warmth of his skin radiated on her back. Kisses trailed from the nape of her neck to her shoulder, raising light goosebumps despite the warm water. Trile ducked her head under the water and then turned around to face him, his arms never leaving her. Orange hair stuck to her face, he raised a hand to slick back the stray pieces of her hair that kept him from fully viewing her. His hand holding her chin, pulling her in for another kiss. Soon they became an entangled mess. Kissing, groping, breathes heavy. Dean's fingers were entwined in her hair, water dripping down his face, eyes glazed over from lust.

She looked up at him and giggled. "As much as I'm enjoying this I really do need to take a shower."

He huffed, "Fine. Here, let me help you." He grabbed her bath sponge and dripped some soap onto it. Lathering up her body gently, making sure to be tender over her bruising. Closing her eyes she took in feeling of his hands bathing her. After a few moments she scrubbed some shampoo in her hair and rinsed herself clean. She returned the favour to Dean and covered his body with suds. After they both were mango scented they stepped out and dried off on plush towels.

Trile stepped into her room and slid on a pair of shorts and a loose fitting tank top. "I'm going to make that coffee now. You wanted some right?"

"Yeah, that would be good." Dean sat at the table as Trile leaned against the fridge, waiting for the coffee to brew. He slumped in the chair, jeans ripped and frayed at the knee, still shirtless, tiny drips of water still clung to him. She couldn't help but to daze off staring at his bare skin. Suddenly her phone rang, breaking her trance.

She swiped the screen. "Hello?" A female voice chimed from the other side. "Oh hey! It's been a bit. You're back in town? ….Uh huh. Yea, that sounds great. I'll see you." She ended the call and walked over to the coffee pot, pouring the liquid in two mugs. "That was my friend, Charlee. She's been out of town for awhile now with her boyfriend. They're finally back home. They apparently want to go out to the bar for karaoke tonight…...would you like to come?" She asked as she sat the mug in front of him.

"Hell yeah!" He said excitably and took hold of the mug.

"Huh, I didn't take you for the singing type." She shrugged.

"Babe, there's a lot you don't know about me." Smiling he sipped on the coffee. "Speaking of which, I should probably tell you. Tonight is our last night in town. Tomorrow we're hitting the road again."

Trile's heart stopped in her chest. "Oh…" She quickly wiped off the shocked, sad expression. "Oh! Well, you should invite Sam out too. I'd love to see him again. We'll have a good time tonight." A pained smile spread on her lips, she hid it behind her mug.


	5. Chapter 5

Trile's car roared as it pulled into the parking lot of the bar and pulled into a spot. The car door popped open and a leather boot stepped on the gravel. Shredded purple tights clung to her legs, jean shorts that barely covered her ass, and of course her punk vest that layed over a tank top. She closed the door behind her and lit up a cigarette, sighing heavily. She hated karaoke, actually, it was that she hated singing in front of everyone. But fuck if she didn't love listening to everyone else belt their drunken hearts out. She made her way inside and looked around the dim place trying to make out where her friends were.

"Traaaaaaaaaaal!" Was yelled from the other end of the bar. It of course could only be one person.

Trile turned her head and smiled, heading over to her to the table that her friends were at. She squeezed Charlee tightly. "Oh fuck! I've missed you! How was your trip? Did you bring me presents? Does Gabe still have all his teeth or did cavities finally rot them out?"

"Haha, very funny. I'll have you know I actually own a toothbrush." Gabriel moved to give Trile a hug, lollipop in mouth.

"It was great! We traveled about, saw some pretty awesome shit." Charlee rustled through her bag. "Got you this." She held out an arctic fox pelt for Trile.

"Yesssss" She immediately wrapped it around her shoulders as a mantle. "I love it. Thank you! I'm so jealous of your adventure. Maybe I'll actually take a trip this year, go see some shit."

"Riiiight, like tight ass will let you do that." Charlee scowled.

"Well….actually. I walked out. It's a whole big story. But now I'm not being restricted. Speaking of which, I made some friends while I was shitty drunk and that's who you're meeting tonight." Trile let out a nervous laugh.

With perfect timing the two brothers walked into the bar. Trile waved them over to the table the three of the were at. Dean was wearing a black shirt with a green undone button up. For some reason she couldn't keep her eyes from wandering his body.

"Trile!" Sam beamed, wrapping her in a monstrous hug. "It's good to see you. Are you doing okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm doing great." She tried to quickly blow off the question. Dean was standing next to her, she wasn't quite sure how to greet him after this mornings activities. She gave him a little awkward wave and a "hello."

An arm wrapped around her waist softly and he pecked her on the lips. "Hey there."

Her lips curved up into a subtle smile and she turned to Charlee and Gabriel. "This is Sam and Dean. Sam's the one who saved my ass at the bar, and Dean helped me out too." She then introduced her two long term friend to the boys.

Gabe looked at how Dean was holding his friend. "Quick on the uptake, aren't ya?" He gave a sly grin.

"Shut up, Gabriel." She jokingly sneered at him. "Dean, wanna go up to the bar and grab some drinks with me?"

"Get us something sugary!" Gabe demanded. Trile rolled her eyes.

The two walked up to the bar and ordered three whiskies and a couple of fruity drinks for Charlee and Gabe. Trile leaned up and kissed Dean again. "Glad to see you came out."

"How could I pass up alcohol and good company? Plus, there's this smokin' girl that I wouldn't mind kissing on some more.

He raised an eyebrow and gave a sultry look. Trile shoved his shoulder and laughed it off.

"The big question though, is what the hell is that around your shoulders?" He stared down the face of the animal that was bundled around Trile.

She looked down and let out a giggle. "It's my present from Charlee and Gabriel, from their trip. I really love taxidermy, bones, and just dead things in general." Dean nodded his head, giving her a judging look. "Shut up, it's not weird. I mean….it may not be normal...but uh...it is kind of weird, isn't it?" She fumbled over her words trying to defend herself and then falling guilty, hanging her head defeated.

Dean chuckled. "I'm just giving you shit. I'll make a mental note of that one though, fucking weirdo."

Trile playfully punched him. They gathered up the drinks and brought them back to the table.

"Yeah! Let's get fucked!" Charlee exclaimed.

"Yours are non-alcoholic…." Trile stared at her friend, confused.

"By fucked I mean watching you get drunk and us making fun at you." The two were flipping through a collection of karaoke songs, trying to figure out what they wanted to sing. Gabe scribbled on a piece of paper and ran it up to the dj.

"So, do you sing?" Dean asked Trile.

"Oh hell no."

"Yes, you do." Charlee stepped in.

"Singing in the car with you is not the same as standing on stage infront of everyone."

"I bet if we get enough drinks in her, she'll get up there." Dean looked at Charlee and smiled fiendishly.

"No, no. You do not plot against me together." She swatted at him.

Gabe stepped up on stage and tapped at the microphone. "This is for my little angel." He smiled at Charlee and waited for the song to start. 80's guitar riffs sounded out of the speakers and Gabe started to move to the music. "Pour some sugar on me" burst through the bar and Gabriel sang his heart out. Hips rocking and motioning to his lover. Charlee was mesmerized, leaning against her table with her head in her hand. Tuned in to nothing but her scruffy man.

Trile lit up a smoke and turned to Dean. "So you're going to sing, right?"

"Pffft, yeah. Lemme drink a bit more and I'll be a pro."

"Somehow I don't believe that. What about you Sam?"

"Nah, I don't do karaoke anymore. Not after I disemboweled Bohemian Rhapsody…."

"No, I banned him from it. He ruined that glorious song, he doesn't deserve to sing anymore." Dean looked over at Sam, pursed his lips and huffed.

Trile tried to stifle her laughter, taking a drink of her liquor. Looking back at the stage she saw Gabe now on his knees practically trying to make love to Charlee with the song.

"I'm hot, sticky sweet. From my head to my feet." Rang from the speakers.

"Oh god, they're so gross. I love it." She took another drag.

Once the song finished he stepped back to the table and started to kiss his girl passionately. A couple minutes went by and then groping proceeded.

"Gabe! Charlee! Public!" Trile shouted at them.

"Oh...oh yeah…" Charlee murmured. Gabriel looked around and then grabbed Charlee by the hand and ran off somewhere to go do Gods only know what.

"Should we, uh, stop them?" Sam looked on shocked.

"No….no, just let them go. It's not safe to stop the bunnies." Trile shook her head, taking another drink.

Dean took one of the slips to sign up to sing and wrote his selection down. He handed it off to the dj and sat back down with Trile and Sam. He slammed down the rest of his drink and sat the glass down heavily. Cringing a bit at the abrupt burn.

Trile looked at him wide eyed. "Ya good?"

"Yeah, just singing. Getting ready. Ya know." He fiddled with his empty glass.

"Oh my god, you're nervous. Look at you, that's so cute." She poked fun at him.

"Shuddup! Miss, I won't even go up and sing." He scowled, grabbing her drink and taking a swig. His name got called a minute later and he walked up front.

"Oh god, this is going to be great. Is he going to sing 'I wear short shorts?'" She giggled to Sam, who let out a bit of a laugh.

Dean stood with the mic in his hand, legs parted enough to stand relaxed, his other hand rubbing the back of his head as he waited for the music to cue up.

The piano rang out through the bar, his deep raspy voice took hold.

" _My lover's got humour. She's the giggle at a funeral."_

Trile just gaped up at was not what she was expecting to escape his mouth. His green eyes intensely looking down at her. The spotlights making them deepen. Time just stopped in it's tracks for this moment. The bar around her dimmed and the only thing there was this man who she realized she was tripping for.

" _The only heaven I'll be sent to. Is when I'm alone with you."_

Her heart was pounding. She swear she was okay with dying right here and now.

His eyes closed tightly as he sang out the chorus, passion melting from the lyrics. Trile was perched at the edge of her seat, hands between her legs grasped tightly to the wooden stool. Something in her soul stirred, she knew he was singing to her, for her, or at least she was hoping. Even though though they weren't touching, or even really communicating, she could feel an odd connection.

" _If I'm a pagan of the good times. My lover's the sunlight. To keep the Goddess on my side. She demands a sacrifice."_

Dean could see her on edge, see her soaking in every chord he belted out. Trile's eyes intent on him and he wouldn't have it any other way. There was something about her that he found so damn gorgeous. If this was the only way he could semi-convey how he was feeling, that would be alright with him. He wasn't very good at being straightforward with his emotions.

Trile managed to lift what was left of her cig to her lips, taking a drag once she figured out how to breath again. The nicotine did nothing for her excited nerves.

" _Good God, let me give you my life."_

His breathe was heavy as he finished the song. A smile rose to his face, curling up at the corners, as he looked at Trile. Whose eyes were twinkling in astonishment. He stepped off stage and grabbed hold of her glass again and sipped at it.

"That uh...that was uh….nice." Trile stuttered, her cheeks turning bright red as she tried to figure out what words were.

"Just nice, huh?" He raised an eyebrow at her, his cockiness leaking out.

She stood up and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, kissing him, letting herself melt into him for a moment. "Yeah, just nice." She sassed back.

Charlee and Gabriel strolled back in. Their hair tussled and they were hanging on each other, giggling, suckers dangling from their mouths.

The group spent the rest of the night drinking, singing, and laughing. Trile managed to keep herself off the stage, although she sang along with the others. Dean was making raunchy comments and puns. The two sugary love birds were often delving into their own world of nauseating cuteness and acts that should have been reserved for home. Sam was looking on at the group, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

At the end of the night Trile and Dean were pretty well off in the inebriated department. Trile's face flush and giggling came much easier than usual. She was often leaning against Dean or trying to use him to hold herself up. Her coordination flew out the window when she drank.

"So, I think we're going to get out of here. Are you two going to be okay getting back?" Charlee asked.

"Don't worry guys, I'll drive them back. This seems to be a routine." Sam chimed in.

They said their goodbyes. The brothers and Trile loaded into the Impala. Dean sitting shotgun, while Trile laid sprawled in the back seat. The leather seats cold against her warm body. The thought that the Winchesters would be leaving tomorrow flashed through her head. It felt like something got stuck in her throat for a moment. Shaking her head she tried to keep herself from tearing up.


End file.
